Possessive Smut
by Ammeh
Summary: Tezuka realized that he was rapidly spiraling into obsession. And he didn't care a whit. [Tezufuji with dark undertones. There is a plot, somewhere. It's just tiny. And really hard to see.]


AN: Fated-chan? Asked for possessive smut for her birthday. And so? I delivered. Fated's birthday is obviously far more important than finishing my other fics, but I -will- do so, someday. If you want to bug me? My LJ is mothproof-underscore-ammeh. And you can read Fated's original fiction on my friends page, and it is awesome and all.

Rating is only T for this chapter, prolly, so if it suddenly dissapears? Just look under "M."

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He was always watching Fuji from the corner of his eye, or thinking of Fuji in some corner of his mind. It wasn't that watching Fuji made him neglect his duties as captain, he was as meticulous as ever in those. Gradually, though, without him realizing it, he had integrated Fuji into his conscious, until thinking of Fuji was like eating or breathing…just something he _did_, without thinking, something he needed to do in order to live. 

For a while, he'd managed to convince himself that his preoccupation with Fuji was due to a fascination with Fuji's style of tennis, and a desire to improve him as a player. Eventually, though, he noticed how he was beginning to have to consciously direct his thoughts back to Fuji's Tsubame Gaeshi, and away from the nape of his neck and the way his collarbone peeked out when his jersey was unbuttoned. These "redirections" slowly became more and more forceful, and less and less efficient.

Even when he could get his brain to listen to him and stop thinking about how Fuji's hair brushed his forehead, his subconscious flat-out refused. He would have liked to pretend that he didn't enjoy the dreams, but in fact he almost looked forward to them, the only time he could think about Fuji in _that_ way without a trace of guilt, because it was perfectly natural, even unavoidable, to have such dreams. At least, that's what the teacher had told them in health class. Tezuka didn't think, though, that he'd meant it was natural to have them _every_ night, and always about the same person.

What he did know for certain was that he didn't want _anyone_ else to have that sort of dreams about Fuji. He clenched his teeth whenever he saw a girl staring at Fuji, and if she stared too long he would always end up glaring. Fuji was undeniably incredibly attractive…gorgeous, even. Tezuka, however, would have greatly preferred if he was the only one who noticed this. However, the evidence was glaring in his face that he wasn't. Nor did he have any right to. He didn't own Fuji, however much he might want to.

It had taken him months to accept that he wanted Fuji, not merely admired him, but _wanted_ him, wanted to touch his fair skin, mark him. Claim him. Yes, in the carnal sense. After that realization, the rest of it fell into place fairly quickly. He wanted Fuji. He didn't want anyone else to want Fuji. And he _definitely_ didn't want Fuji to want anyone else.

Thankfully, that didn't seem to be as of the moment. Fuji smiled evenly at everyone, showing no hint of desire. He smiled at girls who handed him love letters the same way he smiled at his teachers, which was the same way he smiled at Tezuka. Tezuka wanted more, though. The smile wasn't enough. He wanted Fuji's everything.

Tezuka walked down the hall after school, keys clinking in his pocket. There was neither practice nor a student council meeting after school that day, but he had to lock up regardless. He dodged the thronging hordes with the ease of long practice, ignoring the buzz of voices echoing. At least, that was, until one particular name caught his ear.

"I slept with Fuji Syuusuke!"

"Oh Azami, you did _not_."

"I did so! Just last night! He snuck me into his room and we screwed until morning."

"You're full of shit, Azami. _Honestly._"

"Shut the hell up, Naoko. It's **true.**"

He wanted to punch her. Toss her to the floor and stomp on her, all matter of horrible violent things. She had no right to touch Fuji, to even think about touching him. It couldn't be true, no way in hell could it be true. It just _couldn't_. Fuji would never do anything like that.

"Did you hear? Azami-senpai says she had sex with Fuji Syuusuke!"

"Pfft! You believed that? _Everyone_ knows Fuji-senpai is secretly dating Akasuki-senpai."

Tezuka clenched his jaw and fists, sweeping past the first-years who were speaking. It was all gossip. It _had_ to be gossip, there was no other way. Even so. _No one_ was supposed to want Fuji, no one was _allowed_ to want Fuji beyond Tezuka himself.

"_Umph!_ Tezuka? You should watch your way more carefully…never know who you'll bump into next."

_Fuji_. "Fuji."

"Yes? You seem a little out of it, Captain. Good thing we don't have practice today, ne? Or is that the cause of your distraction?"

Tezuka barely registered the words, staring at the way Fuji's hair fell around his face, the way his mouth moved when he talked. Azami _couldn't_ touch him. He was too perfect. She could never touch him, not in a thousand years. _Never…_ Fuji was_ his_. He grabbed Fuji by the wrist, pulse warm beneath his fingers.

"Come with me." He pulled Fuji forward, and Fuji followed, allowing himself to be tugged into the empty student council room as Tezuka locked the door behind them.

"You're the cause." He backed Fuji against the wall, seizing Fuji's other wrist and pinning them above his head. Fuji's wrists were slim, smooth, and he could hold both of them in a single hand. "Look at me," he breathed, pressing his lips to Fuji's. He met no resistance, and the kiss rapidly deepened, almost violently. Fuji's jaw was loose, and Tezuka thrust his tongue into Fuji's mouth, pressing the tensai tighter against the wall. He slipped his free hand against the small of Fuji's back, pulling him forward. He pressed his body into Fuji's, moaning into the tensai's delicate mouth as he slid his hand up under Fuji's shirt. Fuji's skin was soft, supple, and the inside of his mouth was like silk. He broke the fervent kiss, fixing his mouth high on Fuji's neck. He could hear Fuji's heavy breathing as he sucked at the racing pulse, savoring the taste of Fuji's skin on his tongue.

"Te…Tezuka…"

He slowly released Fuji, stepping back and silently handing him the key ring. "Lock up when you leave." With that, he walked quickly out of the room, leaving Fuji dazed against the wall.

_I won't let anyone else touch you._

_(To be continued…)_

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...Plot? What plot? 

Notes: The girls' names are all full of Deep and Meaningful symbolism. I forget what Azami's means and I don't feel like looking it up, I'll mention it later. But Naoko's name means "Child of truth," and Akasuki's means "lover of red." That includes red herrings.


End file.
